Fireflies & Fireworks: A Justin Bieber Love Story
by raindropdreamer
Summary: Justin loves Neveah, the mysterious intern at Island Records. Neveah's crazy about Justin, the new boy who's voice makes her heart stop. Too bad in THIS job, a spark of romance can get you FIRED, and one secret from your past can get you KILLED.
1. Character Description

CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS:

NEVEAH PUCKETT

**Ethnicity:** African American

**Height:** 5'0"

**Hair Color:** Dark Brown

**Eye Color:** Green and Brown (AN: She has heterochromia. In other words, one eye is a different color than the other.

Backwards, her name spells "heaven", but this girl's life is more like a living hell. You'd think that a rich airline heiress going to a preppy private school and getting $400 dollars a month has the perfect life, right? Not even close! If only she could get away from her angry, demanding parents long enough to find out that there's more to life than fights and loneliness.

JUSTIN BIEBER

**Ethnicity:** Canadian

**Height:** 5'3"

**Hair Color:** Dirty Blonde

**Eye Color:** Light Brown

His little videos on the internet ended up giving him the life of a dream, singing all he wants, getting paid millions and picking up girls, at only 15. He should love life, right? Of course not! With his career being a shark tank and everyone in show business being as fake as their hair extensions, it's nearly impossible to find a "favorite girl" that doesn't start a riot once she sees him.

**RIDDLE: **

What happens when you mix a blonde pop star and an edgy black heiress together? **Nothing.**

What happens when you add in drama, hot lattes, snowflakes, and fireflies?

** A Justin Bieber love story!**


	2. Prologue

High, Guys! This is the first chapter of my first story. Before you start reading, let me just say that this one will be kind of boring, but you need to read it in order to figure out what's going to be going on. After that I PROMISE that they will get better. ENJOY!

PROLOGUE

There he was, standing behind his desk with a clipboard in his hand. As if the 5 crying women running out of his office with the feeling of rejection wasn't intimidating enough, the gold Rolex on his hands started to make a skull face the more I stared into it. I also could have sworn that it was whispering "Leave, Leave." But of course, I had to keep looking, since it was either stare into the skeleton watch or stare at his pale, deadly blue eyes.

"Your résumé," he said in his deep voice, "Looks very impressive. The best one I've seen in a long time."

It took all of my strength to squeeze out a "thank you" from my trembling, chewed up lips.

"How do you pronounce your name? NI-vee-uh, nuh-VI-uh…"

"Nuh-VAY-uh. N-N-Neveah Puckett."

Why are you acting like you just got high off of something? I asked myself. It's not like you're in a crime interrogation. It's just a job as an intern.

Who am I kidding? This isn't just a job. This is a one and only chance to be face-to-face with real-live celebrities. This is a job at Island Records Company.

"Based on this," he blurted out, snapping me back into reality "I'd have to be a complete idiot not to have you on our team," he reassured me, actually making my heart be faster. "Still, there's one last question I need to ask you one more question I need to ask you…"

Oh crap, I think. Please don't ask about my bruises…

Please don't ask about my black eye…

PLEASE don't ask about why I have one brown eye and one green eye…

"Usually, 15-year-old girls would prefer a summer job at a clothing store, or movie theatre, or some place where they can hang out with their friends," he said with a bit of suspicion. "Why do you want a job in a noisy, adult-filled record studio 30 miles away from your home?

How was I supposed to respond to that? That I have no friends to hang out with, so I have nothing to lose? That I'm sick of staying home, doing nothing but homework? That I need to get as far away from my angry, demanding parents as possible?

"Because I love being anywhere where there's music or singing involved, and where you're always able to feel the different notes and tunes swimming through your body. Wherever that is, mileage is never a factor. And of course, being able to see singers and celebrities is sort of a sweet point." That wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the complete truth either.

He laughed at my last statement. Thank God. For a second, I thought I was starting to sound obnoxious.

"That, my dear, is the best answer I got all day." He stood up, revealing how incredible tall he was. "Congratulations, Neveah. Welcome to Island."

I could have screamed, if it didn't mean he might send me to an asylum. Instead, I eagerly and rapidly shook his hand smiling, saying "thank you" nonstop.

"I can tell you are definitely going to be a riot around her," he chuckled. "Before you get excited, let me tell you what you'll be doing."

I breathed and sat down, listening to my new agenda.

"Like all of our employees, you'll be starting off as an intern, then work yourself up as you go along. Usually our interns are given miscellaneous jobs, so you'll be on your feet at all times, making coffee runs, organizing mail, stuff like that."

He kept going on, with which days I'm working on, where I check in, etc. Still, I was zoning in and out of attention, continuously saying silently, "I GOT THE JOB!"

"By the way," he added. "We have a very strict rule on _intimate relationships_, especially with the artists that come in the studios." His tone and facial features got serious. "So if we see that it's a negative effect on your work, or _theirs_, in any way, you're gone. Got it?"

"Got it" I said instantly. Any relationship definitely won't be a problem with me.

"Well, I guess that's it." He handed me a slip of paper. "This is your schedule for next week"

I read down the different times, some that even included staying in the studios for sound check. I was able to see Rihanna, Taylor Swift, and one name I didn't recognize.

"Um, whose name is this at the top?"

He glanced at it. "Oh, that's…Justin Bieber."

"Never heard of him."

"Me either. He's supposed to be this newly-discovered talent that they plucked off of YouTube." he muttered, the sound of annoyance in his tone this time. "Watch your back with him. The young ones _always _come in looking for trouble." He lightened up his voice. "See you on Monday."

I left, half of my mind glad that I was chosen, and the other half pissed that now I have to spend two hours every day with a 15-year-old snot.

Thanks for reading, guys. I will get the next one put up as soon as possible. Stay tuned!


	3. Love at First Coffee Burn

Sorry it took so long guys. I HATE semester finals! Anyway, here's the next chapter…

Chapter 1

"MOM, DAD, I'M GOIN TO WORK!" I called out, my voice becoming an echo off of all of the walls in the entire house. As usual, I get no answer.

I sighed, and called out again. "MOM? DAD?"

Amelia, my house maid, poked her head out from the back room, a laundry basket in her hands, and a concerned look on her face. "Your parents just left early this morning, to Sweden."

Right, I thought. Another business meeting.

Her blonde eyebrows scrunched inwards. "Didn't they tell you goodbye?"

I looked around, and saw a note on the front door in mom's calligraphic writing: "_**Left for Sweden this morning. Be back in 2 weeks. Don't get into any trouble. ~Mom**_"

"I guess she sort of did." Amelia must have heard the disappointment in my voice, because she put her soft, fair skinned arm around my shoulders.

I put on a fake smile, "It's OK, Mel." Then, I thought of something.

"Mel," I said in my most sugary voice, taking the laundry basket out of her hands. "You work _way_ too hard. Why don't you take this week off."

Amelia stared at me dubiously. "Do you really think your parents will like that?"

I shrugged. "Do you really think I'm going to tell them?"

She smiled, and wrapped her arms around me. "You can't possibly be your mother's daughter."

She started out the door. "You sure you'll be ok home alone?"

"I'll be fine." I assured her. "You just have fun."

She was out the door, and so was I.

After an hour of driving, I ended up in the front desk at Island, with my schedule in my hands, having no idea where to go.

"Are you lost?" a voice said behind me. I turned around and saw a girl in her late teens, with jet black hair, ice blue eyes, and pale skin.

"Kind of. Do you know where Studio…" I glanced at my schedule. "C-12 is?"

"4th floor. 3rd door to the right." She smiled and held out a black nail-polished hand. "I'm Amber, the secretary. You're Neveah the new intern, right?"

"Yeah," I lightly shook her long fingers. "How'd you know?"

"Trust me, word travels fast here. If you want the latest gossip on anything or anyone, I'm your girl." She stopped "Oh, before you get to your first room," she picked up a tray full of Starbuck's coffee behind her desk. "All of the interns start off on coffee runs. Just pass these cups around the studio, the rooms are written on the side."

I picked them up, but saw a second tray behind the desk, right next to a short pile of folded clothes. "What's that for?"

"Oh, that's a backup, just in case." She winked. Though I had no idea what she meant I headed for the elevator. "Thanks for the help Amber." I said as the doors started to shut.

"Anytime." She called out.

As I was walking down the hallway on the 4th floor, I was surprised by a door flying open, hitting me hard against my nose. As if the cracking sound in my nose wasn't bad enough, the blow caused me to fall flat on my back, 7 cups of piping hot lattes sloshing all over my bare skin.

"OH MY GOD! ARE YOU OKAY?" a deep, boyish voice said in front of me.

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M O—" My soon-to-be angry medley of cuss words stopped the second I saw his face.

I've seen many blonde boys during my life, but I've never really seen one like _him_. His dark bronze hair shined, even in the dim light, and swayed perfectly to his right side, nearly covering his forehead completely. His eyes, currently glazed with shock, were the lightest shade of brown, and kept sparkling with every single blink his eyelids made. I tried to remember why I was about to cuss him out, why I was so furious with him, but my memory was drowned out by a slow, seductive voice moaning: "Officially the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."

***Point of View: Justin***

The inside of the studio was freezing, but I couldn't feel it with the rage running through my veins.

"Oh my god, Jenna! Why are you making this so hard?"

She stared at me with her bright, Grinch green eyes, and her red hair appearing like flames on her head. "Why are you doing this in the first place? You can't just break up with me like that!" She wrapped my arms around my neck and contorted her face to make it look like an innocent puppy. "I love you."

I rolled my eyes and pulled away from her grasp. "Oh, of course you love me," I said sarcastically. "So much that you tried to make out with my best friend in a closet in my own house!"

Tears swelled up in her eyes. "For the millionth time, I did not kiss Ryan, _he_ kissed _me_!"

"You want to come up with a better excuse?" I asked her. "Because you and I both know that that one is bullshit!"

Jenna actually pondered on it for a moment. "Okay," she started to say. "The punch at that party was spiked, and I couldn't—"

"I don't wanna hear it!" I interrupted her, and then lightened up my voice. "Look, you know how much I hate lying. I can't be with somebody—"

"Look!" she screamed, clenching her jaw and closing her eyes into slits. "If you think that you can break my heart and get away with it, you are insane." She got closer to my face and looked deep into my eyes. "You have no idea what I am capable of. I can destroy your singing career _before it even starts_!"

She shoved me out of her way and had her hand on the door before she turned her head to me one last time. "Believe me when I say you haven't seen the last of this bitch!" She swung the door open, leaving. But before she did, I heard a loud thud, and a girl screaming. I ran out and saw a girl lying on the floor with her eyes clenching in pain, drowning in spilled coffee that apparently was so hot, steam was escaping off of her soaked, bare skin.

"OH MY GOD! ARE YOU OKAY?" As if I had to ask.

Apparently, she caught my stupid question, too. She started getting up, with the facial expression of a serial killer. "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M O--" she stopped all of a sudden, and her face softened, a perfect opportunity to get a good look at her.

Her big, round eyes were incredible, one eye dark brown, and the other eye hazel green. Her dark brown hair was in loose ringlet curls stretching down to her waist, rare to see on a black girl. I was staring at her full, light pink lips on her light brown skin tone, thinking that this _had_ to be the most beautiful girl on the planet, when I heard a high pitched voice behind me.

"Hey, blonde boy!"

I turned around to see who it was, but the hallway was empty behind me. Thinking that I was jus hearing things I turned back around to continue staring at the girl, but she disappeared.


	4. Too Good to Be True

_**Previously on "Fireworks and Fireflies"…**_

_I was staring at her full, light pink lips on her light brown skin tone, thinking that this _had_ to be the most beautiful girl on the planet, when I heard a high pitched voice behind me._

"_Hey, blonde boy!" _

_I turned around to see who it was, but the hallway was empty behind me. Thinking that I was just hearing things I turned back around to continue staring at the girl, but she disappeared._

Chapter 2

***Point of View: Neveah***

I sprinted back to the elevator, never knowing that I could run this fast. My fingers were incessantly and erratically tapping the "down" button, and once the double doors opened, I ran into it and leaned against the wall, breathing in as deep as possible to slow down my heart rate.

Thank God I can throw my voice, I was thinking, reminiscing on my moment with the blonde boy. At first going to apologize for being so mean, then maybe even flirt with him. However, the second that I realized that my clothes were wet, coffee-stained, and possibly see-through, I had to make a run for it.

I finally made it to the ground floor, with Amber waiting for me. "Need the back-up cups?" she asked.

"And possibly the back-up clothes," I chuckled out nervously.

She handed me the clothes behind her desk, then started putting up a Japanese screen, folding it inward to form a pentagon. "You can just go on and change in here if you want." She explained. "No one ever comes in during this time."

"Ummm…okay," I panted, going inside of it and closing the 5th panel.

"Are you okay?" she asked from outside. "You're breathing like you just came out of a cross-country race."

"I was running away from this guy," a randomly blurted out, my mouth not even allowing my mind to conjure up a better excuse.

"Running _away _from him?" she said, in shock. "Usually, the new ones run _to_ whatever guy see, not _away_."

"Well, for one thing, how can I run to him soaked?" I threw the coffee drenched clothes over the thin walls. "And another thing, that rule that the guy who hired me said—"

"Oh Alex?" she scoffed. "He's just a stick in the mud when it comes to his interns actually _having a life_! As long as you're not all lovey-dovey when he's watching you, it's fine."

"Really?" I asked, struggling to put on the tight-fitting, black shirt she offered me.

"Yeah. That's the motto here: Do whatever you want, just don't get caught doing it!"

I couldn't help but laugh at her.

"So—"she started, leaning forward. "Who exactly _was_ that guy you were 'running away' from," she asked, her silhouette making quotation marks with its fingers.

I could have sworn my blushing cheeks were burning a whole through the screen paper. "No one, really. J-Just some guy."

"This is a recording studio." She said dubiously. "There's never a 'just some guy' walking through here. Who was he?"

I finally was able to put on the illegally short shorts and walked out in the open. "I don't know. I didn't catch his name."

"Well, what did he look like?!" she demanded.

"What does it matter?" I asked her back.

"Apparently, it matters to you." Amber pointed out, chuckling. "You're face is getting redder than the bowl of strawberries on my desk!"

I stopped my protest after she said that. So she could see it, too.

"Fine." I muttered. "He's about 3 inches taller than me, has dark blonde hair, light brown eyes, fluorescent white teeth—"

"Awww…" she interrupted, then made her face contort into suspicion. "Wait. Was his hair doing that weird, sway-perfectly-to-the-side type thing?"

"Yeah"

"And was he wearing one of those white, billion-dollar Fossil watches?"

"So you _have_ seen him." I said eagerly. "Do you know what he's like? He's not like a snob, is he? Does he have a girlfriend? Is he single…" While I was pelting her with questions like an anxious 12-year-old, I noticed how her face became exasperated.

"Oh my God!" she groaned, her forehead in her hands. "I can't believe you! You don't even know who the kid is, and he's already got you falling—"

"Wait," I interrupted. "Who are you talking about?"

She looked around the lobby, making sure that no one could here her. "Did anybody tell you about a guy named Justin Bieber?"

"A couple times, but the predictions about him weren't exactly the most optimistic." I thought of something dreadful. "Why?"

"_That_ was the guy you met in the hallway!"

My throat got tighter once she said that. Before I blew up in emotion, I had one question that might have given me reassurance if Amber answered it correctly: "Is he seriously as bad as everyone says?"

"Let me put it gently: You see that sweet, little redhead over there?" She pointed toward the end of one of the hallways. I turned and saw a gorgeous, yet incredibly scary-looking, girl with fiery red hair, screeching obscenities at one of the workers, and eventually storming off after giving him a painful blow to the stomach. "He picked _that_ to be his girlfriend!"

"Oh," I said with disappointment. "So he has a girlfriend."

"For now. Rumors say that he gets a new one every 2 weeks."

"I thought you weren't supposed to trust rumors."

"At _this_ job," Amber said "You _got_ to."

My lips felt like they were swelling up, which always happened when I was getting ready to cry. _What are you doing, weakling! _A voice in my head screamed. _You can't be seriously telling me that you're crying over a guy you don't even know! Suck it up, Neveah! _she keeps yelling. _You heard Amber. This fool obviously isn't worth your tears…_

I was awakened by black-polished fingernails snapping in front of my face. "Earth to Neveah!" it was screaming. I finally was able to pull away from the voice of my conscience and glanced at the clock.

"Damn it, I'm gonna be late!" I grabbed the coffees and started sprinting toward the elevators, but stopped after I realized something. "By the way, how did you know that I was gonna need all of this?"

"Twenty interns have come in and out of this building," she explained, raking her fingers through her jet black hair. "And the one thing that they always do on their first day is spill something on themselves!"

That made me giggle, almost made me forget about my little ounce of hope being crushed.

***Point of View: Justin***

"Okay," my best friend, Ryan, muttered slowly, flipping through the pages of the book titled _Prediction or Illusion? _"So you saw an insanely hot girl in the hallway…" he flipped past 28 pages. "…then heard a high pitched voice behind you…" he kept flipping "…and then she was gone, right?"

"Yes," I groaned in annoyance "for the 27th time!" Ryan was my best friend and everything, but there were days when I felt like I was two inches away from burying him alive. Today was one of those days.

He kept looking throughout the book. "Tell me again what she looked like."

"One brown eye, one green eye, waist-long dark brown hair, light brown skin-tone—"

"Hold on," he interrupted "So she was black?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And her hair was all the way down to her waist?"

"Yes"

"And it wasn't a weave?"

"NO!"

"SORRY!" he exclaimed. "It was just a question!" He flipped onto the middle page. "Sorry dude, but it fits the definition of illusion."

"It wasn't an illusion!" I said in defense. I found it hard to believe that my mind can make up someone that gorgeous. "I'm telling you, this girl was real. Whoever she was, she was the most real thing I've ever seen!"

"Well, you're going through the symptoms of illusion trauma." He pointed out.

"Which are what?!" I challenged him.

"There you go!" he exclaimed. "Symptom 1: Defensive--"

"I'm not being defensive!"

"Symptom 2: Denial--"

"Could you STOP?"

"Symptom 3: Raising your voice--" he continued to add on. Now I'm wondering if he's doing this just to annoy me.

"I'm dead serious, man. Cut it out!"

"Symptom 4: Irritability--"

"RYAN!"

"Okay, I'll stop." He closed the book. "The book's a load of crap anyway."

"_You _checked it out." I reminded him.

"It was the only one that had any relation with your stupid idea!"

"IT'S NOT STU--" I stopped the sentence. I hated arguing with him. "It's not a stupid idea," I told him in a softer voice. "I'm just trying to figure out what I saw."

"How do we even know if you saw anything at all?" he pointed out.

I thought about it for a second. "Maybe your right."

"Uh, Justin--"

"No, no, I'm serious. It was probably just been my mind playing games with me."

"Well, you know, I've been wrong before--" he tried to interrupt.

I kept babbling on. "Not this time. I mean, I can't seriously expect to see someone looking like _that_ wandering around a place like _this--_"

"Turn around, man. You might prove yourself wrong." He blurted out.

"What?" I looked up, and saw him staring nonstop at something behind me, almost as if he'd been hypnotized. "Dude, what are you looking at?"

I turned around and saw it, standing in the doorway, with a slightly confused look on it's face. It was the girl in my illusions. Wait… Ryan could see her, too. So she _was_ real.


	5. Great First Impression

**(A.N: **I'm not sure whether or not we have to do the disclaimer thing, but just in case: **Dislaimer--** I **do not** own Justin Bieber or any of his songs, Ryan, or Island Records.)

P.S.: whatever opinions that my characters have toward Justin Bieber do not reflect my own. I'm a fan of his music (otherwise, I wouldn't even be writing this story), so **please** no bad comments about the dialogue.

_**Previously on "Fireworks and Fireflies"…**_

_I looked up, and saw him staring nonstop at something behind me, almost as if he'd been hypnotized. "Dude, what are you looking at?"_

_I turned around and saw it, standing in the doorway, with a slightly confused look on its face. It was the girl in my illusions. Wait… Ryan could see her, too. So she was real._

Chapter 3

**Point of View: Neveah**

_Great,_ I thought, feeling the sarcasm burn, even in my own thoughts._ He's here._

It was so strange. The first time I saw him, I had the weirdest desire to jump into his arms. But then, once I realized who he is, I didn't want to be anywhere near him. If that wasn't bad enough, him and his little friend staring at me wasn't much of a re-turn-on.

I had the break the silence. "So is this Studio C-12?" I asked randomly. Still, no speaking. Just blank stares. I kept fishing for any type of response. "Yes, no, maybe… If you guys can hear me, can you like, nod, blink or… something?

Finally, his friend stood up. "Yeah, it is. Are you here for…sound check?"

"I guess. My schedule's kind of jacked up."

"Lemme see it," I he walked up toward me and scanned it, standing a little too friend-ishly close to me.

"Yeah, it looks like you're in the right place." He looked up at me with a slight grin. "I'm Ryan, by the way."

"I'm--" I cut my sentence short. For some reason, I just didn't want him to know my name. "Nice to meet you." I looked out of the corner of my eye, the beautiful blonde boy still staring at me. "Um… what's up with your friend?"

He looked over in curiosity. "Oh, I can fix that. Hold on." He walked over toward the desk, lifted up a black stapler, and swiftly chucked it toward the boy, aiming it perfectly in his stomach, snapping him out of his daze. The blow caused him to fall back into his chair, hitting the ground flat on his face. As painful as it looked, I couldn't help but silently chuckle.

"Don't mind Justin." He said to me, his voice trembling, trying hard not to break into laughter. "He can be weird sometimes. He's not…used to it yet."

"Not used to meeting a girl that doesn't scream in his presence?" I scoffed, with maybe just a little too much sarcasm.

Ryan corrected me. "No. Just not used to meeting a girl like you in general." I wasn't sure what he meant by it, but the way he was smiling, I assumed it was a compliment.

Of course, the beautiful brat (I guess I could call him Justin) had to say something. "You know I'm still in the room." Was that supposed to imply that I should be talking to him?

Luckily, I knew one word that could send him flying. "So?"

"So why don't you introduce yourself to me, too?" He asked, with a wannabe player look on his face. So Adam was right. The young ones _do_ always look for trouble.

"I could," I snapped at him "But it's not good to be that nice to stray hounds. They might get attached and follow you home." Right there, as his face dropped about two feet toward the floor, Ryan couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry. What?" he asked, trying to looked shocked.

"Oh, was I speaking too fast?" I continued. If Adam (or maybe I should call him Mr. Figaro), hadn't have walked in, it would have been the start of a burn-fest.

"Miss Puckett," he said looking at me, "great to see you." He stared at Stray Hound (I started to think that's a much better name for him). "So I see that you met Mr. Bieber." He was eyeing the obvious tension between us. "Okay, let's get this done. Places."

Stray Hound strolled behind the glass window of the studio, carrying his guitar, while I was one the stage of controls, making sure the sound waves were correct.

Adam leaned toward me. "So how bad is he?" he asked.

"Let's just say I came up with a new nickname for him: Stray Hound." After he stopped laughing, I had to ask, "Can this snob even sing?"

"We're about to find out." He replied. After five minutes, Stray Hound was given the cue to start, and I was prepared for a complete and entertaining screw-up.

But, of course, I never get what I want.

_**One Time**_

_When I met you girl, my heart went knock, knock_

_Now them butterflies in my stomach won't stop, stop_

_Even though it's a struggle, love is all we got_

_So we gonna keep, keep climbing to the mountain top_

_Your world, is my world_

_And my fight is your fight_

_And my breath is your breath_

_And your heart…_

_Damn it! _I thought. _What's happening to me?! _Heat rushed to my cheeks with every note his guitar made, my pulse sped up every time he sang "Girl I love you." ,and with each high note he did, my limbs started to go numb.

_**Come one, Neveah, **_my little voice in my head was screaming. _**Pull yourself together! Remember, this fool slammed a door in your face, spilled coffee on you, chose a demon for his gf… do you really want me to continue?**_

_Well, what if that all was just an accident, _I challenged her.

_**Don't try to make excuses! You can't be falling for him! You heard what Amber said!**_

_What if that's just a rumor? Don't you always tell me not to listen to what other people say?_

The voice actually paused for a second. _**Well… it's different this time!**_

_How?_

…

_HOW?!!_

"Miss Puckett?!" Adam's voice knocked me out of my silent fight, and invited in a deafening, high-pitched squeaking.

"What's that noise," I yelled, blocking the noise's travel to my eardrums with my hands.

"You!" he shouted. I looked down onto the knobs controlling the sound, and, too my horror, my arms pushed them all up to their highest. I slowly glanced up to see Stray Dog with his eyes closed and his face contorted in pain.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I tried to explain, trying to pull them all back down to the bottom, only to push the noise up to an even more fatal noise, causing everyone in the sound-proof studio to scream. Finally, after a loud pop, the noise ended, leaving complete silence. In fear that I'd gone deaf, I looked around and, to my relief (at the same time terror), heard flames crackling and spark flying on two burned-out speakers.


	6. Fired Up, Literally

(Disclaimer: I **do not** own Justin, his songs, Ryan, or Island Records)

_**Previously on "Fireworks and Fireflies"…**_

"_Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I tried to explain, trying to pull them all back down to the bottom, only to push the noise up to an even more fatal noise, causing everyone in the sound-proof studio to scream. Finally, after a loud pop, the noise ended, leaving complete silence. In fear that I'd gone deaf, I looked around and, to my relief (at the same time terror), heard flames crackling and spark flying on two burned-out speakers._

Chapter 4

**Point of View: Neveah**

After five minutes of fire extinguishing, I was facing my death sentence into Adam's cold, pale eyes.

"Miss Puckett," he began though clenched teeth. "Would you care to explain to me…" his calm voice got louder "…WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!"

Of course, Stray Dog _had _to say something stupid at that moment. "Um, I think we all got it figured out on what just happened—"

"Don't. Even." Adam growled at him, causing Stray Dog to stop his idiotic chuckling. Then, he turned toward me. "Do you have any idea how much money in equipment you just destroyed? Not to mention the possible physical damage you may have caused to everyone in this studio!"

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" I stammered, trying to hold back my holy-shit-I'm-in-so-much-trouble tears welling in my eyes. "I promise, I will pay for the dama--"

"You're an intern!" he interrupted me. "You really think that you're gonna be able to pay $1,500 back in damages?"

I forced my trembling hands to fish my wallet out of my bag, pull out a stack of hundred-dollar bills, and hand it to him. He just stood there with the money in his hands, with a shocked look in his eyes. "How did you—"

"Long story" I told him. "So… am I still fired?"

"Well," he said slowly. "Seeing as though it's your first day…I suppose I can let this one slide." I let out a sigh of relief. Then he whispered, "But don't think that a stack of C-notes can pull you out of every mistake you might make." His facial expression calmed down and handed me his car keys. "In the back of my truck, there are two extra speakers that we can hook up. You're gonna go get them out." He looked around, and called over Stray Dog. "Mr. Bieber, go help Mrs. Puckett bring them up."

Stray Dog looked at me, biting his lip in a flirtatious grin, making me want to gag in disgust. "Yeah… I think I handle it myself."

"There's no way you can handle carrying two twenty-pound, 10x10 speakers up 5 floors by yourself." He said in a stern voice. "He's going with you."

I sighed in exasperation, and wandered out into the hallway, hearing loud footsteps speeding up behind me.

"Let me guess," he said. "This is your first day?'

"Excuse me?"

"What? Do you set equipment on fire _every _day?"

I stopped in my tracks, right in front of the elevator. "Look. As you may already know, I haven't had the best day. So I'm not in the mood for some snot-nosed, big headed, player wannabe cracking jokes!"

The shock look on his face occurred again. As I tried to close the elevator doors on him, he forced them back open, an angry look appearing on his face.

"What is your deal?" he asked. "You don't even know me."

I had to struggle to remain focused, continuously thinking about how great he looked when he was mad. "Trust me. I know you. I've seen about a million celebrities with egos like yours?"

"Like what?" he challenged.

"Self-centered, materialistic, thinking that they can get _whatever_ and _whoever_ they want just because a few people know their name."

He stopped, his face softening, looking as if he was about to cry. He finally let go of the elevator doors, and walked away. As I saw the disappointed expression on his face, I couldn't help but follow him.

"Where are you going?" I called after him.

"To get the speakers." He mumbled, loud enough for me to barely hear him.

"The elevators are _that_ way."

"I'm _hate _elevators," he muttered, going down the stairs. "But I'd figured you already know that, since I'm just like every other 'self-centered, materialistic celebrity." He added bitterly, and then turned to look at me. "And to think that I thought you were different."

Fire flamed in my veins after he said that to me, and made me storm down the steps, following him. "What do you mean 'I thought you were different?" I demanded.

"Different," he said simply, "As in not like every single fake cookie cut-out girl that believes every single rumor they hear--"

"Who are you to call me that?" I yelled at him.

He stopped after going down two floors, turned toward me, and looked me deep in my eyes. "Tell me. Exactly who told you all of the stuff you 'know' about me?"

"No one told--"

"Who. Told. You." He demanded.

His voice started to humble me down. "Everyone."

"And you believed them." He said. Then he muttered. "What else to expect from a spoiled, rich, _white girl_."

My mind seems to have no control over my body like my rage does, because before I knew it, my arms found the strength to grab him and slam his body toward the walls near the stairs, lifting him upward so that his feet were dangling three inches above the step. "Call me 'white girl' one more time."

His lips contorted into a villainous grin, an attempt to call my bluff.

"White gi--"


	7. Angelic Voice, Devilish Strength

(Disclaimer: I **do not** own Justin, his songs, Ryan, or Island Records)

(P.S. I also **do not** own the song "I Got You." Nikki Flores does. )

_**Previously on "Fireworks and Fireflies"…**_

_My mind seems to have no control over my body like my rage does, because before I knew it, my arms found the strength to grab him and slam his body toward the walls near the stairs, lifting him upward so that his feet were dangling three inches above the step. "Call me 'white girl' one more time."_

_His lips contorted into a villainous grin, an attempt to call my bluff._

"_White gir--"_

Chapter 5

**Point of View: Justin**

After my eyes opened, I felt like crying. There's no way that could have all been a dream. The beautiful girl, the speakers blowing up, and our fun little banter…God, please tell me that it wasn't a dream.

Suddenly, I realized that my head was throbbing, and I was lying down on the bottom of the stairs. I looked up and saw…her. At the top of the stairwell looking down on me looking as if she just killed somebody. Thank God it was reality.

"I'm SO sorry. Are you okay?" she asked, running down to me. I saw the guilt on her face, my head throbbing, the bruises all over my arms, and realized something that sent me infuriated.

"Did you just _throw me down the stairs_?!" I yelled. I couldn't tell if I was either angry by what she did, or shocked that she was strong enough to do it.

She put on a nervous grin, remaining silent.

"What?" I asked, pushing myself up, nearly every part of my body sore and dark-purple. "Cat got your tongue? Ran out of smart-ass insults to toss at me?"

Her eyes squinted, and she sprang herself up. "Do you want to get thrown again?"

As much as I wanted to say something stupid, I decided to save a trip in an ambulance and just say "No."

"Then quit insulting me!" As she nudged me out of her way, and continued down the steps, she added, "By the way. If you ever call me 'White Girl' again, you'll be 8 feet under in ten minutes!"

"Don't you mean 6 feet under?"

"I'll beat you down 2 more feet." She explained, opening the door which led to the lobby.

After 20 minutes of silence, we finally made it to Adam's truck.

"So remind me again why you threw down two flights of stairs?" I couldn't help but ask her.

"I didn't _throw _youdown two flights!" she exclaimed. "I just… pushed you down a little, and you rolled down the rest of the way."

"Yeah, that sound's a million times better." I replied sarcastically.

"Like you didn't deserve it." She said, struggling to lift the stereo's out of the back of the truck. "That's…what you get…ugh… for calling me…OW!"

"Do you need some help with that?' I asked, lifting my feet onto the bumper, next to her.

"NO!" she said, finally lifting the stereo up a whole two inches, then dropping it back down in desperation. "Yes," she muttered.

I chuckled and helped her with the speakers, seeing it as a chance to spend a full 20 seconds to be only 2 inches away from her. I don't know what it is, but for some reason, the more she resents me…the more I want to have her. I guess they were right when they said "Humans want what they can't have."

After about 30 minutes, we finally made it back to the studio, Adam still waiting for us.

"Well, it's about time!" he said. "What took you guys so long to--" then he stopped. "You know what? You two are 15, so I probably don't wanna know. Just set those up so we can get back to work."

***Point of View: Neveah* **

After two hours of fighting hypnotism by Stray Dog's voice, it was finally time to go home, and everyone was leaving the studio.

"Miss Puckett, it's time to leave." Adam called from outside the door.

"Um… I'll be out in a few minutes, just let me get all my stuff." I asked. He nodded, and left the door cracked open. As I was about to leave, the empty studio caught the corner of my eye. The microphone was still on the stand, the stereo was still on, and an unused iHome was calling the iPhone burning in my pocket. I was so tempted, but at the same time, I was afraid to mess something else up.

_**Don't you dare! **_The little voice said. _**You heard Adam. No more touching the equipment. Do you want a repeat performance of the stereo?!**_

_Hey, guess what? _I replied to the little voice.

_**What?**_

_Shut up! _ While I heard the little voice gasp, I yelled to the little voice, and ran behind the glass window, going against every ounce of common sense I had. I grabbed the microphone, turned on the first song on my iPod, and started singing as if no one was listening.

***Point of View: Justin***

"What happened to _you_?" Ryan asked, staring at the bruises on my arms.

"Don't ask" I muttered.

He smirked. "She kicked your ass, didn't she?"

"No." I said petulantly.

"Oh my God!" he continued. "Hey, but that's still hot. In fact, I heard that slapping and hitting can actually mean that a girl thinks you're hot--"

Out of nowhere, I faint melody flowed in my ear. "Uh, Ryan--"

"You know what another turn-on can be? Biting--"

"Shut up!" I said in a whispered voice. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

The further I went down the hall, the more clearly I could hear faint lyrics.

_I've been waiting a long time_

_For someone who can my dreams come true…_

"Sounds like somebody singing." I said.

"Justin, I don't hear anything." Ryan insisted.

Before he could say anything else, I was slow-jogging, the voice leading me.

"Where are you going?" Ryan called

"I'll be right back. Just hold on a sec." I called back to him. After about 4 turns going down different hallways, the voice led me back to the recording studio I just left from. I listened through the crack of the door and saw, who other, then the hazel/brown eyed girl.

_Ooh, when you're all by yourself baby  
I got you  
If you need someone to call baby  
I got you  
There's no need to be lonely  
I got you  
And I know that you got me too, boy_

Okay, now this was just plain torture. How can a person both look _and_ sound like an angel?! Every single high note and every single slow blink of her eyes made my pulse stop cold. Apparently her voice hypnotized me and made me forget where I was, because once her song ended, I found myself in the studio, my hands slapping together in a one man applause, making her head jerk toward me in shock.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" she asked.

"Enjoying the show."

She switched off the microphone. "I don't need you to be funny!"

"I'm not being funny." I said, in my dead-serious tone of voice. "You…you were amazing."

"Yeah right." She spat out, grabbing all of her stuff and heading toward the door.

"Was your life really _that_ bad that you can't tell when someone's complimenting you?!"

She turned around wearing the cold eyes of a shark. "I just met you 4 hours ago. Don't presume to tell me about what did and did not happen in _my_ life. You don't know me!"

"But I _want_ to!" I exclaimed. "Don't you get that?"

"Trust me." She muttered. "You don't _want_, nor will you ever _need_, to know me." She continued to walk out.

I had no idea how to respond to that moment. The only thing I could think of was one last question, or more accurately, pathetic attempt to beg. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

She stopped at the doorway and said simply without turning her head, "No." Then, she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

As I was bending down to retrieve the pieces of my newly-shattered heart, I noticed something in the doorway. A small, lime green notebook with strange symbols carved into the cover. I picked it up to get a closer look at it, and saw that the scribbles spelled out the title: "Neveah's Love Poems."

_So her name's…NI-vee-uh? Nu-VIY-uh? _I thought, trying to pronounce it. _Of course a girl like that wouldn't have a normal name._

I knew that it was wrong the second I did it. I knew I should have just run and gave it back to her… but I didn't. Instead, I shoved it in my back pocket, beginning my first stage stalking-related thievery.

If violating private property is the only way to know more about my mystery girl… that's what I'm gonna do.


	8. The Benefits of Thievery

_As I was bending down to retrieve the pieces of my newly-shattered heart, I noticed something in the doorway. A small, lime green notebook with strange symbols carved into the cover. I picked it up to get a closer look at it, and saw that the scribbles spelled out the title: "Neveah's Love Poems."_

So her name's…NI-vee-uh? Nu-VIY-uh? _I thought, trying to pronounce it_. Of course a girl like that wouldn't have a normal name.

_I knew that it was wrong the second I did it. I knew I should have just run and gave it back to her… but I didn't. Instead, I shoved it in my back pocket, beginning my first stage stalking-related thievery. _

_If violating private property is the only way to know more about my mystery girl… that's what I'm gonna do. _

Chapter 6

***Point of View: Neveah***

"Drive, Isaac, Drive!" I told my driver, hopping into the passenger seat of the limo this time, so I could talk to him easier.

"Rough day?" he said with his comforting voice, with the slightest hint of an Australian accent.

I sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He climbed into the driver's seat, turning the key into the ignition, and clutching his masculine, mocha-colored hands onto the wheel. "Try me."

It's virtually impossible for me to lie to Isaac, so before I knew it, I told him everything, the lattes, the speakers, mostly on Stray Dog. I almost thought he'd never stop laughing, but then once I told him the final part, his laughter turned into shock.

"You threw the boy down the stairs?!" he screamed.. "You know, usually when you're mad at a boy, a simple slap in the face gets the job done."

"I couldn't help it." I complained. "I was just _mad, _and the stairwell was right there, and--!"

"That's not good, Sheila." He said, his tone getting serious. "You know what happens when you allow yourself to get that angry. I swear, if you don't start to control this, you're gonna end up killing someone these days."

"I wish I could have," I muttered.

"What was that?" he exclaimed

"Uh, nothing."

Isaac paused for a second, getting onto the freeway. "Is there even a specific reason why you're mad at this boy?"

"There are a million reasons." I protested. "He's obnoxious, rude, egotistic, a wannabe player—"

"You found out all of that about him in just four hours?" he asked dubiously. "How exactly did he even show all of that?"

"He didn't need to show it. Looking at little tramp said it all."

"Excuse me?"

"Amber showed me this demon of a girl walking out, and it turned out to be Stray Dog's girlfriend!" I explained. "If he hangs out with someone like _that_, what's that supposed to say about _him_?!"

Isaac didn't say a word for five minutes. "So you're judging some guy based on what… another girl said… was his girlfriend? I don't get it."

"Do you want me to say it again, just a little slower?"

"I _meant," _Isaac corrected me "that I don't get how you're judging a guy based on _rumors_, which I remember you saying that you hate." He made a swift right turn with the wheel. "Remember last year, when you're school did that to _you_—"

"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again!" I barked at him, soaking my mind in the memory. It was because of that one night that I'll _never_ go to another party, have a boyfriend, or kiss a guy EVER again.

"The point is," he said, changing the focus of the conversation "you hated it when people believed those rumors about you, so why are you about to do the same thing with a guy?"

I couldn't say anything after that. I _hated _ it when Isaac was right!

After I came back home, ran into my completely-green bedroom, dug through my A&F bag and pulled out…nothing. A lump was forming in my throat as I poured out all of my bag's contents, looking past my iPhone, Sidekick, house keys, credit cards…where the hell was my lime green poem book?!

***Point of View: Justin***

I showed up early to the studio, drowned in by Neveah's poem's and songs. The lyrics that interested me the most had the strangest title: "Song That I Wished a Boy Would Sing to Me"

_Just a fraction of your love fills the air_

_And I fall in love with you all over again_

_You're the light that feeds the sun in my world_

_I'd face a thousand years of pain for my girl…_

My hypnosis was broken by a door that was slammed so hard, I was surprised that it didn't fall off its hinges. I looked up and saw Neveah at the front desk looking anxious and erratic, wearing circles under her eyes that seemed to be getting bigger and darker with every second.

"Vay, are you okay?" Amber asked, her eyebrows twisted in concern. "You look like you haven't slept in 3 days."

"I haven't." she replied, her lips and voice both vibrating. "Just wondering… but did you happen to see a… tiny lime green notebook with writing on the cover around here"

She eyed me a look of suspicion from the corner of her eyes. "Sorry, I haven't. Did you look everywhere."

"I'm about to. Just keep an eye out for it, please?" she begged.

"Yeah, no problem."

"Thanks," she pushed out, continuing on her coffee run, slightly shaking.

The second the elevator doors closed on me, I found Amber's pale hand clutching tightly on the front of my shirt, and her eyes frighteningly aimed at me. "Okay, pop star," she said in a low voice. "What did you do?"

I slowly lifted my arm from beneath the table, revealing Neveah's poem book in my trembling hands.

"Damn it, Justin!" she yelled, snatching the book out of my hands, making the pages fiercly swipe across my fingers, resulting in small slits forming across them.

"Just let me explain--"

"You stole her book!" Amber yelled

"I did not steal it!" I protested. "It was just lying on the ground, no one was around it so I just picked it up. It's no biggie."

"Did you see how Neveah was freaking out? It obviously _is _a biggie for her!"

"I'll give it back to her, I promise." I was stopped by the feeling of hard pulse in my fingers. I looked down and saw large beads of red oozing out of my hand. "Okay, how is it that every time I'm at this studio, I end up getting hurt?"

"Shut up, and get it back to her already!" she said, pushing me toward the elevator.

"Yeah, I can't do that just yet."

She stopped, and spun me around to look me in the eyes. "Why the hell not?"

"Because…"

"Because _what_?"

"…I'm not done reading it yet?"

Her expression turned blank. "Are you effing kidding me?"

I said nothing.

"Right, 'cause stealing it wasn't bad enough, let's go all the way and invade privacy while we're at it!"

"Look, I went through all of the trouble of getting it, can you at least let me have it for a while to actually look at it?"

"Let me think," Amber said. "HELL NO!" she grabbed the notebook out of my hand and started toward the elevator.

"Come on, Amber!" I begged. "Just let me have this one time!"

"NO!"

"I'll pay you 2 grand!"

"I can't be bought!"

"I'll do your work for a month!"

"NO!"

"I'll make sure that Jenna doesn't go anywhere near this studio!"

She stopped dead in her tracks. She turned toward me. "For how long?" she asked

"Until the day she takes out her hair extensions for good." In my ex-girlfriend's case, that's never.

Amber thought about it, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. Finally, she handed me the book.

"I owe you one!" I said.

"Damn right you do!" she muttered, going back to her desk…

_**Weeks Later…**_

Black nail-polished, porcelain-white hands slammed on the table in front of me.

"Times up!" Amber announced.

I held the poem book firmly in my hands. "Can't I just have one more day?"

"You've had the thing for three weeks already! You've seen Neveah lurking around here. Obviously, she's never going to get over that thing missing."

Unfortunately, Amber was right. Neveah was moping so badly over her book missing, she was actually being…_nice_ to me. On second thought, I'm not sure if completely ignoring someone qualifies as being nice, but at least she wasn't causing me any physical harm.

"Okay maybe you're right." I admitted. "But think about it. She's been looking for this all around the studio and it's nowhere to be found. Three weeks later, I suddenly have it. She's going to know someone stole it!"

"You can't seriously be scared of her. What exactly do you think that she's gonna to do you?"

"I don't know…Kill me?!"

"That's it! You're giving it back!" she grabbed the front of my shirt and started dragging me toward the elevators.

"But Amber—"

"Will you just grow some balls and go up there already!" She yelled.

"Can't I just take the stairs?"

"The elevators are faster!"

"Y-yeah, but—"

"JUST GO!" Amber yelled, jamming in the up button, letting the doors shut in front of me.

The air suddenly felt muggy and closed-off, slowly making me hyperventilate. As the elevator's pushed off, my stomach dropped and the pressure was forced on the top of my head, making me feel lightheaded. As it continued to go up, I had to continuously assure myself, _It's almost going to be over, Justin. It's almost over… _

(A.N: In case you're wondering what's going on, Justin's claustrophobic. I saw it online and thought that it would be cool to add into the story. )

After the reassuring _ding_, I ran out of the open doors, breathing in deeply. After I pulled myself together, I went down into the studio, and saw Neveah sitting on a tabletop, holding her legs close so that they were touching her chest, a perfect fetal position.

"Neveah?" I uttered with a nervous tone.

She turned her head to face me, her expression soft and detached. "Yeah?"

"Um…" I lifted up her little green book, making her eyes get even bigger. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Slowly, she started to get up, still in shock. She started slowly walking toward me, making me slightly scared.

"N-now, before you say anything, just let me explain—"

Before I could continue, her arms were wrapped tightly around my neck, her chest and stomach molding onto mine. After about three seconds of me being in shock, my arms automatically took advantage of this moment and wrapped themselves around her waist, while my mind kept praying that this would never end.

Suddenly, her body ripped off of mine, taking a few steps back, and her serious, uptight look of death appearing back on her face.

"Tell anybody that I did that," she threatened me. "and I will make sure that it's the last thing you ever do."

I scoffed. "And I guess the score right now is: random act of kindness: 2, and gratitude: 0."

Her face twisted into guilt and pride-swallowing. "Okay, I'm sorry." She clutched the notebook in her hands. "Thank you for finding my book." Her voice got uneasy. " You didn't peek into it, did you?"

I smirked. "Maybe. Maybe not."

She struck me on the shoulder with her poem book. " Whatever!" she started heading toward the door before muttering, "Stray Dog."

I turned around in shock. "What did you just call me."

"You heard me!" she yelled back, and walked out.

_Damn, _I thought. _How can something so gorgeous be so evil?_


	9. Let the Engine Run

I'm soooooooooo sorry that I didn't post anything up yet, guys!!!!! My computer crashed, but now, everything's all good. I promis, I will post up a bunch as fast as I can

**Warning: In this chapter, you may find Nevaeh as being really cruel to Justin, but she'll start to really soften up later.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

***Point of View: Neveah***

"I can't believe you _hugged _him!" Amber exclaimed in disgust.

"I know!" I groaned out in reply. "You only said that about 5 times already!"

Ever since the whole "Stray Dog" incident a few hours ago, my mind has been insane. My mind was ordering me to go straight home and scrub down every patch of skin he infected... but my arms were longing to wrap around his neck just one more time.

_**Pull it together, Nevaeh. **_Uggghh!!! I need to find a way to shut up this stupid voice.

_**So the guy found your poetry. BIG WHOOP!!!**_

_Maybe he's trying to be nice. _I silently respond in defense, clutching my small, green, soul keeper that was reunited to me once again. _People can change._

_**That's exactly what he wants you to feel! He's probably got a whole scheme in his mind!**_

"So..." Amber started, bringing my mind back into reality. "...what are you planning on doing for your birthday next week?"

"Well, my parents were gonna take me to Ve--" I suddenly realized something. "Wait, how did you know that my birthday was next week?"

"Didn't I tell you?" she replied smoothly, her Cheshire cat grin forming back on her face. "I know everything around here."

I started to feel an ounce of suspicion, but I tried to get over it. "Well, my parents _were _going to take me to Italy for two weeks, but they had to cancel. _Again."_

_"_Can't you just throw your own party? You know, invite all your friends and stuff?"

"Oh God, no!" I practically shrieked. "My parents would kill me if I did anything like that."

Amber's face molded into a mixture of suspicion and confusion. "Y-you're not allowed to have parties?"

_Oh shit, _I thought. _She caught that._

I chuckled nervously. "O-of course I am. I-I-I 'm just...n-not allowed to have them... while they're gone." Yeah, Nevaeh. Nice save.

It seems as though Amber bought it. "Oh." was her simple reply. "That makes sense."

I forced my iPhone over the tight pocket of my skinny jeans, and saw the numbers 3:50 illuminating most of the black screen. "Crap, I gotta go!"

I said my farewells to Amber, and raced outside the studio to meet Isaac. But instead of seeing a sleek, black limo, I spotted a black and silver Harley resting right on the edge of the sidewalk. Who else do I see but... Stray Dog, leaning on it, and holding two sleek helmets.

"What the hell?" were the only words that I could think of at this moment.

He sat there with a confused look in his light brown eyes, still leaning against the motorcycle. "You don't like the ride?"

"No, I don't!" I exclaimed. "And I sure as hell don't like _you _next to it!"

His face scrunched up into a puppy dog face. "You know, you really shouldn't yell at me like that." he whimpered. "You're starting to hurt my feelings."

"Well, it's either I hurt your feelings, or I hurt your body. Which one would you prefer?" I challenged him. "And where is my driver?!"

"I just... sent him out for the day." he replied, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I said, exasperated by the back-and-forth remarks. "I-I-is that your goal? To drive me insane until I quit?"

"Oh, I think you've got that done on your own," he said. He actually moved so that the motorcycle was in front of him. An attempt to protect his body from my future attack. "_My _goal right now is to make sure you actually _have a life."_

I could feel both of my ears flaring into a deep red. "What makes you think I don't have a life? And even if I don't, what does it matter to you?"

Stray Dog got off of his bike, and slowly started walking circles around me. "_PLEASE!_" I know exactly what kind of person you are." He began to further and further away from me and the motorcycle, which for some reason made me want to follow him. "You're the kind of girl who spends your weekends _studying_ instead of hanging out with friends. The kind of girl who's probably _never_ been outside your house except for school. The kind of girl who's never been with your friends to dances or teen clubs or anything that doesn't involve school because, to your parents, having fun just _isn't important enough_." He let out a mocking chuckle that made my stomach churn. "What am I saying? You probably don't _have friends _to do all that stuff with even if you wanted to!"

My anger was kicking in again. As much as wanted to just kill him right then and there, I remembered what Isaac told me...

_You need to control your anger, Sheila. You know what happens when you let yourself get that angry._

With his voice constantly ringing in my ears, I couldn't do anything but strike him hard across his left cheek. "You also left out one thing." I grabbed his face so it can be close to mine, forcing him to look straight in my eyes. "I'm also the kind of girl who _kills_ people that talk to me like that." I abruptly let him go, causing him to fall to the ground.

Pretty soon, I saw my sleek limo turning onto the curb, recognizing the license plate reading: 2cool4u.

I turned toward Stray dog, who was still on the ground with a shocked look on his face. "I guess I won't be needing that motorcycle ride after all." I turned toward the car and muttered just loudly enough so that I was sure that he could hear me. "Stray Dog." I climbed into the limousine, with a huge knot forming into my stomach. I wasn't sure if it was because I was pissed off that he said all that stuff... or pissed off that he may have been right.


	10. Welcome to Hell

**Hola, young writers! This chapter is going to be pretty short, but there's a lot of drama packed into it. **

**Warning: This chapter is going to be abnormally dark and may be controversial to some readers. **

* * *

**Chapter 8**

I've been in the car, silent for 20 minutes, and I still can't get this knot out of my stomach. Currently, I can't even remember why I was even mad at Stra--Justin--in the first place. And if I really do hate him as much as I think I do...why do I keep getting this urge to jump in his arms every time I see him?

I had no time to think about it once I walked in the door. I immediately saw green and silver Cadillac's in the driveway, which can only mean one thing...

My parents are back from Sweden.

My short freedom is gone.

Welcome to Hell.

"You alright there, Sheila?" Isaac asked me.

I snapped my head back in surprise. "yeah, I'm fine. Just...I-I-I didn't know _they'd_ be back so soon."

Apparently, he could hear the fear in my voice, because I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, lightening up the tenseness in my body. "You know... if anything goes wrong, just call me and I'll come get you." he reassured me.

"I know" I replied. "But I'll think I'll be fine. " I climbed out of the car, scooped my bag off the car floor, and headed towards the gates of Hell.

"By Isaac." I replied weakly. He waved and drove off. I watched as he turned the corner, secretly wishing that he was taking me with him.

Slowly, I opened the front door of my house, and actually landed one foot in the house before I was greeted with a nice, firm, loving…slap in my face.

The blow made me land in the wall behind the door, my arms making a failed attempt to soften the blow. I weakly turned my head around, to spot the angry voice that could be no one else…but my mother, holding what seemed to be my report card.

"Nevaeh Rachelle Puckett," she said through clenched teeth. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!!" she shoved the paper hard into my face, forcing me to see the producer of her anger, Which read in tiny letters: Honors Pre-Calculus- C+.

Although I was scared as hell, I couldn't help but let my thoughts wander around the question: _Where was my dad?_

"M-m-mom," I stuttered weakly, "I can explain--"

"THERE'S NO NEED TO EXPLAIN!" she interrupted. "IT'S WRITTEN IN PLAIN ENGLISH!" She slammed the fateful piece of paper onto the marble counter. "Nothing but a hideous wart on the face of perfection that we place on this family," she muttered to herself. Her head slowly turned to me, her mocha-caramel- colored face becoming a shade of red that made the huge ruby stones around her neck seem dull. "Do you have any idea what this will do to our reputation? Or does that even matter to you?"

"M-M-Mom," I replied. "I-It's only a progress report. I-I-I can b-bring--"

"SHUT UP!" she forced her hands toward my shoulders and sent me tumbling to the floor. "I'm so sick of your stuttering!" she ran out into the laundry room, a place where --except for special occasions like this --she never sets foot into. After a few seconds, she came out, her face still red, with a steam iron in her left hand.

"M-mom, what are you doing?" I asked frightened. She said absolutely nothing, but simply plugged in the iron into the closet outlet next to her.

"Mom?"

Petrified, I watched the iron begin to shoot out steam, reminding me of a dragon my nanny told me stories about when I was younger. But know she was gone without a trace… and I was about to be next.

"MOM! You promised you were never going to do this again!"

She started speaking in a calm voice, which made me cringe even more. "You know… your dad left me in the trip to Sweden two weeks ago." She took the iron out of its dock , with it steaming up, looking as painful as ever. "He's gone…You know, you're just like him. A failure. A worthless, imperfect FAILURE!" She started walking closer to me. "And you know what I what I always to with failures."

"MO--" were the only words I could get out before my speech was interrupted by my blood-curdling screams.


	11. Take Me Away

**Chapter 9**

***Point of View: Justin***

"Justin!" Amber snapped at me. "Will you stop with the tapping on my desk? You're giving me a headache."

I looked down to see my hands, which were currently tapping erratically on Amber's desk. I took them off and put them to my side, while they silently shook anxiously. "Sorry." I said.

"What are you getting so worked up about." She asked in irritation. "She'll be here. You'll have plenty of time to get on her nerves once she shows up."

"What if she doesn't show up?" I said. I had no idea why I was getting so worked up about this. This chick yelled at me, pushed me down the stairs, and slapped me so hard that I still have a red mark the shape of a hand on the whole right side of my face. Nevaeh obviously hated me… so why was I getting worried that she's 10 minutes late?

Eventually, I saw her finally going through the double doors, bringing my heart rate up even faster once I saw her. But once she got closer to me and further away from the overcast outside, I could have sworn I heard it snapping in half.

Nevaeh was wearing jet black, tortoiseshell sunglasses, an attempt to conceal her cherry-red face and probably blood-shot eyes. Her long black hair was pulled back, dangling just above the middle of her back, which, I been starting to learn, was what she always did when she was upset.

"Vay," Amber said nervously, "everything...alright?"

She looked up from signing her name in, her facial features contorting uncomfortably into a false smile. "Yeah, Em. Everything's great."

All I remember going through my head was the question, _Do you really think you're fooling anybody with this act?_

"You sure?" Amber went on. "Cause you... kind of look like you were crying."

"Oh," Nevaeh let out what was supposed to be a joking _oh._ "Don't worry about it. It's just...my allergies. Pollen in the air...makes my eyes watery."

"But it's not even sp--"

"Oh, damn!" she exclaimed, eyeing her watch-less wrist. "I'm late for my sound check. Adam is gonna kill me." She made a desperate attempt toward the elevator. "Bye, Em!" was the last thing she said before the door closed in front of her.

"Is it just me," I asked Amber. "or did you not swallow the crap she fed us either?"

"It's not just you." That had to be the first time she agreed with me. " You get pollen allergies in the _spring_, not the _winter_. And did you see how those shades were practically glued to her head? It's dark and cloudy as hell out there!"

"What do you think she's hiding?" I asked her, as if she knew the answer.

"I don't know." She began picking up a bunch of papers and started running towards the desk. "Tell me what it is when you find out."

"Yeah, sure, I--WHAT?!" I exclaimed once I realized what she just told me to do.

She turned around casually. "You heard me. Go find out what's wrong with her."

"Ha!" I scoffed sarcastically. "Amber...Amber,Amber, Amber...you probably never noticed this, but... I'm hanging on a thread over the PITS OF DEATH with Nevaeh!" I looked around, to make sure no one heard me screaming. "If I just do one more thing to piss her off, that thread is gonna SNAP!"

She turned around in annoyance. "I'm sorry, but did you have a bad surgery during your life? Did the doctor accidentally chop off your balls?"

I stared back at her in confusion. "What? No!"

"You sure? Because your acting like a little bitch!" she said. "Just go and ask her what's making her so upset." she turned back around once she thought of something. "But I suggest you take her away from this studio. The stress here is obviously not helping her."

"So what makes you think she'll talk to me. For the two months that we were here together, we haven't exactly been the best of friends!"

She let out a sigh of exasperation. "I swear, there are times when you're just so stupid! Nevaeh doesn't hate you. If anything she feels the exact opposite of hatred for you." She made one last remark before walking away. "If you still don't believe me, ask her for a ride on your motorcycle again, and see how she responds."

***Point of View: Nevaeh***

I was in the recording studio. I had Taylor Swift right in front of me, singing one of my favorite songs in the world...and I couldn't even enjoy it.

My left arm was still in writing pain over the argument with my mom last night. As if that wasn't punishment enough, the bruises over my legs, stomach, and back, weren't exactly a trip to Miami...and I swear, if Adam doesn't stop yelling at me, I am going to scream...

"Adam?" A soft, girly voice came from the door behind me. I turned around to see what seemed to be...Amber, making an attempt to save me.

"I need to see Miss Puckett. It's urgent."

Adam looked at her suspiciously. "How long is she going to be out?"

"Seems like the rest of the day." she replied. _Bless you, Amber,_ I thought quietly.

He turned me, stared at me for a good two seconds, then made a gesture with his head toward the door. I slowly walked toward the threshold of the door, and once it closed behind us, Amber and I were running down the hall.

"Oh my God, Amber, I so owe you one!" I gasped the second we stopped.

She began looking at me with guilt. "Trust me, no you don't." Suddenly, I noticed a figure entering out of one of the rooms. As my bloodshot, teary-eyed vision cleared up, I saw it to be...

"Amber!" I yelled as I saw Stray Dog getting closer to me.

"Please don't hate me. This is for your own good. " She turned toward Stray Dog. "She's all yours."

I had this hope in my mind that I was getting Punk'd. That this was just a huge joke and that Ashton Kutcher was gonna run out of the rooms with his camera crew behind them. But as I saw Amber walking hurriedly toward the elevator, leaving me and Stray Dog in the hallway, I knew this was no joke.

"What the hell is this?!" I screamed toward him.

"Just let me explain--"

"If this is just another attempt to make my life miserable--" I choked on my words, angry tears flooding down my cheeks. "--don't bother. It's bad enough without you."

For my whole pathetic banter, Stray Dog just... stood there. Not saying anything stupid. Not making any stupid pick-up lines. He was just looking at me, with a deeply concerned look on his face.

Suddenly, he moved toward me, making me jump, and placed his pale hands on my face. His fingers slowly rose up my face, pushing my sunglasses up onto the top of my head, revealing my bloodshot eyes: the brown one being a fire engine red... and the hazel one being a purplish-black.

I could see his eyes falling into shock, and his eyes began to look glassy...almost as if he was about to cry. Slowly, he put his thumbs over both of my eyes, shifting them across the bottom of my eyes.

_Is he wiping away my tears? _I asked myself. _This guy is supposed to be a jerk! He's supposed to be the person at this place I'm destined to despise... so why the hell is he being so nice?_

"Do you..." he began with his velvety-soft voice. "...want to go on a ride with me?"

His question confused me. Is he seriously asking again?

"If you don't wanna go, it's all right. I just thought... you might want to...get away from here for a while."

I could see the sincerity piercing through his light brown eyes. He was serious about this. And despite everything in my common sense to tell me not to go, my mind couldn't stop my voice uttering the million-dollar answer.

"Okay." I blurted out.

His eyes plunged into astonishment at my answer. He was positive that I was going to say no. "Really?"

"Yeah." I said for a second time, my stomach in a knot "Let's go." I headed toward the door leading toward the stairs, remembering how much he hated elevators.

He shook off his state of shock and headed towards me. For some reason, my mind was having huge doubts about this. I let him walk in front of me, so couldn't see me check the bottle of pepper spray attached to my waist belt.

_After the incident two years ago, _I told myself, _it never hurt to be prepared._


	12. Making that leap

**A.N.: I'M BAAAAACK! I'm incredibly sorry that I left you guys with a cliff hanger for so long. I have no excuse for that. But before I start, I'd like to give a shout out to a couple people:**

**Skyros-Eriskay****:** Thank you so much for sending me that message. It gave me the push I needed to continue my stories.

**LovePeaceBieber**: You have no idea how much it meant to me when you said my story was inspiring. Also, I read the first chapter of your story and loved it instantly. Promise me that you'll write more soon!

**Previously on **_**Fireworks and Fireflies...**_

_"Do you..." he began with his velvety-soft voice. "...want to go on a ride with me?"_

_His question confused me. Is he seriously asking again?_

_"If you don't wanna go, it's all right. I just thought... you might want to...get away from here for a while."_

_I could see the sincerity piercing through his light brown eyes. He was serious about this. And despite everything in my common sense to tell me not to go, my mind couldn't stop my voice uttering the million-dollar answer._

_"Okay." I blurted out._

_His eyes plunged into astonishment at my answer. He was positive that I was going to say no. "Really?"_

_"Yeah." I said for a second time, my stomach in a knot "Let's go." I headed toward the door leading toward the stairs, remembering how much he hated elevators. _

_He shook off his state of shock and headed towards me. For some reason, my mind was having huge doubts about this. I let him walk in front of me, so couldn't see me check the bottle of pepper spray attached to my waist belt. _

After the incident two years ago_, I told myself, _it never hurt to be prepared.

**CHAPTER 10**

***POINT OF VIEW: NEVAEH***

I probably shouldn't have gone with him...

I bet there were a million reasons for me not to go with him...

Only, the next thing I knew, I was feeling ridiculously cold air whipping face, and my arms wrapped around the soft yet strong exterior of Stray Dog's stomach, hearing nothing but the earsplitting roaring of the motorcycle's engine.

He told me that he'll drive me wherever I wanted to go. But during that time, I had no specific place in mind, so we ended up driving straight in one direction, not stopping for over an hour. I had no idea where I was, and for the first time, I didn't care. I just wanted to be away...

Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice how the bike had begun swerving in a totally different direction. Instead of riding on concrete, we were shredding a dirt trail through thick terrain.

"What are you doing?" I screamed to him, my voice becoming uneven by the constant bouncing of the bike. I wasn't even sure if you were able to drive a motorcycle on _dirt_, let alone through ridiculously thick plants. Scared that this was the end, I forced my eyelids to shut close, waiting for the excruciating pain of the fall to take its toll.

"Vay?" I was shocked to hear Stray Dog's voice so clearly over the engine, until I realized that the engine was shut off. "Vay, it's OK. We stopped."

I forced my eyes open to see..._his_... face, mere inches away from mine. All of a sudden, my stomach felt like it exploded, releasing the butterflies that it was once containing, and causing them to spread all through my body.

I quickly snapped myself out of it, refusing to let my lips pucker up or my shoulders to lean in closer to him. I immediately got off of the bike, getting at least three feet away from him. Realizing that this guy actually _helped_ me by driving me away from... everything, I slowly loosened my guard.

"So..." I spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "Where exactly are we?"

He began grinning like a mischievous twelve-year-old. "Follow me." He answered simply and began walking deeper into the woods, disappearing under the overflowing of bushes.

_**Here's your chance. **_The disgusting voice of my conscience added. He can't see us anymore._** This is your opportunity to jump on that bike and head back home!**_

I didn't make a response on that. I was too busy trying to fight off every muscle in my body from heading towards the parked bike. Part of me wanted to leave, to leave Stray Dog stranded here... but another part of me was wondering what was hidden behind the low-laying branches.

As if coming for my rescue from the battle between me and my self, A pair of light- brown eyes emerged, sparkling with concern.

"You alright?" he asked.

It took me hard to get my knowledge to speak again. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, come on." He urged. "Trust me, you're gonna love it."

With my conscience no longer speaking, I effortlessly walked toward him behind the huge green__leaves.__

He led me around the woods for about 10 minutes, slowly guiding me throughout thick, wet grass and getting hit in the face with whip-thin branches. Strangely, I began to hear the weirdest sound of water rushing. It seemed like ocean waves, only they were much to loud and banging compared to the light sloshing of Malibu Beach.

"You hear that?" he said, turning his face toward me, smiling.

"Yeah?" I said, slowly and nervously.

"You wanna see where it's coming from?"

Without letting me answer, he pushed up the curtain of leaves released by a willow next to us, revealing a strong, mist-covered river, leading smoothly down a well-refined cliff, falling into another about 30 yards below with an ear-splitting bang.

"Oh my God..." was all I was able to whisper out.

Stray Dog snickered. "What, you've never seen a waterfall before?"

"Not this close." I said truthfully.

"This is nothing!" he chuckled, when I noticed he was taking his shoes off. "We...are about to get a lot closer."

I looked at him in shock at that comment.

"I-I meant to water!" He said quickly.

The relief was short-lived as I figured out what he meant. "What do you mean get clo--" It immediately came to me. "Justin, I know what you're thinking. I am NOT jumping off this thing!"

"Oh come on!" he begged. "Quit being so stiff. You gotta learn to live a li--" He stopped in the middle of his sentence after he caught what I just said, and began beaming toward me.

"What?" I said in denial.

"Nothing, it's just...You called me Justin."

After realizing that, my mocha-colored cheeks and nose turning a strawberry-red. Wanting to change the subject immediately. "Let's just do this, Stray Dog!"

My confidence faded as our feet got closer to the edge , allowing me to look the waterfall in the face. It seemed to be at least 30 yards from the surface of the water. The distance ended drastically into sharp, hard splashes occurring what seemed to be, in my mind, sharp rocks peeking out of the white foam. My stomach twisting so badly, making me feel like I was going to puke.

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked, apparently not noticing my hands trembling and face turning white. "That was a stupid question, wasn't it?"

"No, I jump off of lethal heights into skull-crushing waves all the time!"

Strangely, he chuckled at my sarcasm.

"Look, it's not as bad as it looks." he informed me. "Once you jump off, and you're in mid-air for a few seconds...the feeling's amazing."

Shocked by his ability to be that deep, I actually began wondering if it's as good as he says it is.

"If I agree to do this, will you promise me that I won't get hurt?"

He gave me an assuring nod . "I promise."

At that, I forced my feet to inch closer to the edge, making my legs feel like pudding. "On three. One..."

He firmly took my hand, sending electric shocks up my arm and into my spine. "Two..."

"THREE!" we said in unison, as I pushed our legs up off of the ledge, sending me, to a point of no return, toward my death below.


	13. Don't Rain on My Parade!

_**This was SUPPOSED to go up around the end of May, but it ended up being long than expected.**_

* * *

**Warning: This chapter is going to be kind of a filler, but there will be suspense later. AND... I'm finally DONE with Finals! SO I'll finally be able to work on **_**Love Bites**_**.**

**BTW: I do not, nor will I ever, own Justin Bieber. **

**Previously on **_**Fireflies and Fireworks...**_

_"If I agree to do this, will you promise me that I won't get hurt?"_

_He gave me an assuring nod . "I promise."_

_At that, I forced my feet to inch closer to the edge, making my legs feel like pudding. "On three. One..."_

_He firmly took my hand, sending electric shocks up my arm and into my spine. "Two..."_

_"THREE!" we said in unison, as I pushed our legs up off of the ledge, sending me, to a point of no return, toward my death below._

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

***POINT OF VIEW: JUSTIN***

I jumped off of this cliff a million times before. So many times, that the adrenaline rush it first gave me started fading to nothing. But... with Nevaeh's fingers interlocking with mine, and her angelic voice shouting at its highest while we were in midair...that rush came back three times as hard as before.

Finally, after what seemed to be forever of dangling in the air, our feet collided with the surface of the rough water, gravity pushing our bodies below it. My head stayed under water for about 10 seconds, before I found the strength to push myself back up, taking in huge breaths of air.

"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed towards Nevaeh. "Was that cool, or was that cool!"

But my smile suddenly faded when I noticed something... I was standing above the surface by myself, without soft, light brown fingers between mine.

"Nevaeh?" I called desperately, getting no response. Slowly, my stomach felt like it was being stabbed my injection needles.

"NEVAEH!"

Slowly after I called one last time, I felt strong, yet incredibly soft, arms wrapping around my stomach and pulling me sharply. After letting out a blood-curdling scream, I was slightly comforted by the soft melody of a familiar laugh. I turned to see, to my relief, Nevaeh, with soaking wet black hair and a huge smile on her face.

"Vay!" I yelled, splashing water in her face. "That's not funny!"

She chuckled even louder. "It is from this perspective."

"You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Well you almost gave _me_ one!" she pointed out, splashing me in the face. "How is it that you're afraid of getting in an elevator, but you have no issues with jumping into a waterfall?"

"It's called claustrophobia!"

"No, it's _called_ being _irrational_!" Just as I was about to grab her, Nevaeh's body twisted into diving position, disappearing swiftly under the waves. I dove under the water to attack her, only to come back up after finding my eyesight blurry and contorted under the waves.

Eventually, she popped her head back up to face me. "What's wrong?" she said mockingly. "Can't catch me?"

"I could!" I said in defense. "It's just...really cold out here."

"Right..." she said sarcastically. I'm pretty sure she said the word "weak" under her breath.

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard me, Stray Dog!" _Great, _I thought. _Now we're back to "Stray Dog."_

"Fine, _White Girl_!"

The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. Once I saw the playful anger in her eyes, I knew I was screwed.

Nevaeh made an evil chuckle, and had a Cheshire Cat grin fall on her face. "You really shouldn't have said that." That was when she pounced.

Within two seconds, forced her hands onto my shoulders, pushing me down underwater. My vision became even blurrier than before, and my mouth was releasing every ounce of breath I had into bubbles going toward the surface. Her hands firm on my shoulder's made me look upwards, and I was able to get a somewhat clear view of her.

The black blur which I guessed was her hair, was floating gracefully around her head in a million directions. Her body, despite it being ridiculously hazy, seemed to be a ray of light, kind of like the light dead people see before they head off to heaven.

Unfortunately, she had me down under than she planned, and immediately put her weight off of me, making me realize how badly I needed to breathe. Breaking from my hypnosis, I sprang up into the surface, gasping and coughing for oxygen.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I heard her worried voice, which eased most of the pain I was in. "I-I-I swear to God, I wasn't drowning you! I was... I was just kidding around, and I didn't-" she stopped rambling once she saw me breathing normally.

Suddenly , she put her hand on the side of my face, sending electric shocks down my back. "You alright?"

This gave me the perfect moment to really look at her. Her long black hair was soaked, somehow glistening in the overcast. Her chai latte-colored skin was glistening with the beads of water all over her. Her eyes, the hazel one still having a black circle around it, was staring into mine, waiting for an answer.

"I am, now" was the only cheesy line that I could come up with. Then I closed my eyes, bringing my lips toward the angel in front of me.

...

As if on cue, I felt a raindrop fall on my shoulder. As much as I tried to ignore it, I felt another one, bigger and harder.

Nevaeh pulled away from me, making my already fast-beating heart feel like it was being punctured by a sharp splinter. Apparently, she felt a drop fall too.

"Please tell me that wasn't rain." she groaned.

She brought her hazel/brown eyes upward, to find the clouds, much darker than when they first got out here, sending down hard-falling drops onto them.

"Shit!" she blurted out as the rain kept getting harder and harder, as the wind began slamming it harder in our faces.

"Come on!" I yelled, making sure that she heard me over the rainfall and roaring waves. After pushing ourselves toward the edge of the river that the waterfall led into, and ran through the storm. As I started racing up toward the cliff, she pulled me hard on my arm.

'Where are you going?" she yelled over the storm.

"To our motorcycle! We can still get out of here if we leave now!"

"We can't!" she protested. " It's 20 minutes away from here, and storm's just gonna get stonger!"

"We'll be fine!"

"No we won't!" .the rain started falling harder. "The storm's probably on the road, too! There NO WAY I'm riding a motorcycle through all this!"

"It's just rain, and a little bit of wind, alright? What's the worst that could happen?"

Two seconds before I said that, a strike of lightning hit directly on a tree close to us, causing a heavy, body-crushing branch to collapse just two feet away from us. I couldn't stop myself from letting out high-pitched, squeak-like scream.

Nevaeh turned to me. "Still think we should head home?"

I was still frozen in my shock state.

She slapped me hard on the cheek in an attempt to snap me out of my trance. "Stray Dog!"

I turned toward her in a dazed look. "What?"

She let out an aggravated groan. "Just follow me!" She grabbed my arm, pulling me against the sharp force of the wind blowing toward us. After fighting the force of the wind, swerving through falling trees, and having hard raindrops slam into our faces, we made it into an alcove, which lay directly under the cliff we jumped off of with a portion of the land above us sticking out about seven feet in front of us, making a perfect storm shelter.

As we stayed there, wondering if the storm would ever start, all that I could remember thinking was:

_Damn! This is SO not the way I wanted this day to go!_


	14. The Pain of an Epiphany

**No words can describe how guilty I feel for leaving you hanging.  
I'm going to try and make up for going MIA this past year.**

**I'd be more than happy to offer my limbs as a sacrifice...  
But then again, how would I ever finish this story?**

* * *

**Previously on **_**Fireflies and Fireworks...**_

_Nevaeh turned to me. "Still think we should head home?" _

_I was still frozen in my shock state._

_She slapped me hard on the cheek in an attempt to snap me out of my trance. "Stray Dog!"_

_I turned toward her in a dazed look. "What?"_

_She let out an aggravated groan. "Just follow me!" She grabbed my arm, pulling me against the sharp force of the wind blowing toward us. After fighting the force of the wind, swerving through falling trees, and having hard raindrops slam into our faces, we made it into an alcove, which lay directly under the cliff we jumped off of with a portion of the land above us sticking out about seven feet in front of us, making a perfect storm shelter. _

_As we stayed there, wondering if the storm would ever start, all that I could remember thinking was:_

Damn! This is SO not the way I wanted this day to go...

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**P.O.V: Nevaeh**

About half of an hour passed, and Stray Dog and I were still in the makeshift cave, sitting in silence. The storm was obviously not going to desist anytime soon. If anything, with the lightning strikes illuminating the sky, and the raindrops crashing down like hail, it was going to get worse before it got better.

Not wanting to look at the depressing shower of rain anymore, I sent my focus down, hoping to find a bug rock or anything that I could just stare at for a few moments.

With my luck, of course, my vision went straight toward the black, lifeless screen of my iPhone, that I was completely oblivious to taking out of my pocket before I jumped into the waterfall.

_**You just HAD to go with him didn't you,**_the antagonizing voice in my head said.

_Oh, not now_, I thought in exasperation.

_**You just COULDN'T control your damned emotions and weak crying, could you?**_

_I said not now_, I repeated once again.

_**We should be home by now**_, it continued. _**We should be at the studio, admiring Taylor Swift.**_ _**We should be doing what we agreed to do, and STAYING AWAY FROM STRAY DOG...**_

"Shut up," I accidentally whispered aloud.

"What was that?" the annoying concern of a boyish voice asked. I couldn't believe that he actually heard me from a few yards away.

I stayed silent, still refusing to speak to him. After everything that he did to me, a mere silent treatment was going easy on him.

I heard a deep sigh. "Can you at least talk to me?" he begged. "Yell in panic. Scream at the top of your lungs if you have to, but... don't just sit there like a statue."

I turned my head to my left, pouting, and put on a monotone voice. "Why bother vocally saying something that my middle fingers can gesture by themselves?"

After a few seconds of silence, I thought I had won with my wits. However, after hearing the not-so-subtle sound of stomping footsteps toward me, and suddenly becoming face-to-face with a pissed pop star, I began to think otherwise.

"Look," he said, his voice deeper than usual. "You don't need to take your anger out on me just because you got your hair extensions damp. I wasn't planning on that storm coming up."

I gave him the most deadly glare I could form. "First of all," I said slowly and sharply "these aren't extensions. Second, let's go over the chain of events. _You_ pulled me out of the studio. _You _threw me on your motorcycle. _You _drove me to God Knows Where. _You _made me _jump off a cliff_, causing me to break my phone, and YOU BROUGHT ME INTO THIS CAVE!"

"I didn't expect-"

"You didn't expect what?" I interrupted, still steamed. "You didn't expect your little plan to go like this."

He glared at me for a second, and then let out a sardonic chuckle. "My 'plan'? So tell me, princess, exactly what do you mean by 'My Plan'?

"Don't act like I don't already know. Here's you," I deepened my voice in an attempt to imitate his. " 'Oh, look. There's a 15-year-old girl crying in the hallway. Let me take her away from her job, _where she's SUPPOSED to be_, bring her out in the middle of nowhere, so I can try and make a move on her while she's vulnerable.' Well I'm really sorry it didn't go out the way you wanted it to."

He stared at me in silence, an aloof look on his face. Then, he started taking a few steps back away from me. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm pretty sure you're the only one here that likes to kid." I scoffed. "Maybe if you spent more time being more considerate, and less time thinking about what _you_ have to gain from everything, you'd be more aware of that!"

He looked straight through my eyes, as if he was searching for a single fault, or a hint of doubt in my  
irises. When he couldn't find anything, he shook his head in denial, and lifted up his arms.

"You know what?" he said, softly and in defeat. His lips were pursed together, and his pupils were void of any emotion. No anger, no sadness... it was as if all of the life that once bounced through them disappeared with two words.

"_Screw you."_

I stood there as those two words began to sink through. _Did he just surrender? _I asked myself

Part of me was glad that he was done with me, that I could finally have some peace and quiet in my newfound Hell. Then again, my other half would have preferred that he had said something in his defense, that he would throw some snarky comment at me, or even offer his "white girl" bit. This, however, was like pouring a kid's Pixie Stick on the ground. The fun was gone.

He turned around slowly, heading outside the cave, and towards the hard-hitting curtain of rain. As much as I wanted to let him go, part of me just decided to blurt out...

"Justin?"

"WHAT!" he exclaimed without turning toward me, causing me to jump back. He finally turned around, his face bearing an I-just-slammed-my-hand-in-the-car-door look.

"What the Hell do you want from me?" He continued to shout. "You want me to just keep doing the same thing that I have been for the last three months? You want me to just keep getting back up after you kicked me so many times, and follow you like a lost puppy? Well, here is a newsflash, _Princess_," He said 'Princess' the same way a person would said _foot fungus._ "I may be _persistent_, but I'm not a _masochist_. Even a stray dog like me can only take so much abuse!"

I stood there, frozen, letting him release his every hidden word. After a while, I realized, that this was the longest that I had ever let him talk to me.

He continued in his harsh tone. "Let's just get something straight. The reason I quote unquote 'dragged' you here was just to cheer you up! Since the second I met you, all I've wanted to do was _cheer you up_! I found your little songbook when you went crazy because you couldn't find it. I let Adam go easy on you when you blew up those speakers. I drove you here while you were red in the face_ with friggin' tears_ because, STUPID ME, I thought I could take you away from whatever was making you upset! I didn't have any other motivation but _that!_"

"But do you notice any of that?" He let out a laugh that was sickeningly sweet. "Of course not! All you were focused on was what _other people _said about me. All you did was find any single flaw I had so that you could categorize it with any stereotypical characteristic of the 'common pop star' that you have been brainwashed with by the fake quasi-norms that your friends with!"

"But you know what? I overlooked it. I kept telling myself, 'Oh maybe something bad happened in her life,' and 'Oh, she's probably just rough around the edges,' and 'You know, she might open up to me when she begins to know me better'."

He stopped for a few seconds. "Well, congratulations on proving me wrong! You showed me that you are the most _ungrateful, insecure, JUDGEMENTAL _person I have ever met in my life!"

He put his face in his hands for a moment in an attempt to recover the energy he used up from screaming. Then he said in a softer voice."And I refuse to waste my time on a lost cause."

He began to head over toward the opening of the cave, apparently done with his speech. Suddenly he took one last turn toward me.

"And just one last thing. If I'm as big as a Stray Dog as you say I am, what the hell does that make you?"

I couldn't say anything to that. I was too busy engulfing myself in all that he had said to come up with a proper answer.

"Think about it." After one last body turn, he left, disappearing in the hazy curtain of the still heavy curtain, unaffected by the piercing thunder.

I stood there for what seemed to be hours, contemplating all that he had said, all that I had done to him, only to have thought go through my head the entire time.

_He was right._

After a while, I laid down on my back, on the cave ground, being more alone in the recently-noticed darkness of the cave then ever before. I finally admitted it to myself, letting go of any ounce of pride I had left in my body.

_He was right_.

I then thought about his last comment. _If I'm as big as a Stray Dog as you say I am, what the hell does that make you?_

It made me release the single words I had in over an hour.

"A bitch."

* * *

ANGSTY, RIGHT?  
**Please stay with me. I promise things will turn around in later chapters.  
I swear, I will not let this go abandoned.  
Love you all that review and stay with me**


	15. Crying Muddy Raindrops

** I'm keeping my promise! I'm putting up the next chapter. My New School Year resolution to not procrastinate is already beginning.**

**Now if only I had some people reviewing, I'd might have them come out faster...**

**Previously on **_**Fireflies and Fireworks...**_

_I stood there for what seemed to be hours, contemplating all that he had said, all that I had done to him, only to have thought go through my head the entire time._

He was right.

_After a while, I laid down on my back, on the cave ground, being more alone in the recently-noticed darkness of the cave then ever before. I finally admitted it to myself, letting go of any ounce of pride I had left in my body._

He was right.

_I then thought about his last comment. If I'm as big as a Stray Dog as you say I am, what the hell does that make you? _

_It made me release the single words I had in an hour._

_"A bitch."_

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**P.O.V: Justin**

_What was I thinking? _I thought, as I managed to spend half an hour treading angrily through the storm that I appropriately named "Katrina's Baby." _Walking into the freakin' thing that we were supposed to be avoiding._

Without warning, I got an awful sensation in my stomach, as if I just dry swallowed a cactus whole. It was so uncomfortable that it caused me to hunch over, grabbing the skin on my stomach, in an attempt to soothe it. I quickly realized that it was caused by a key word in my sentence.

_We._

A heating sensation was going through my veins the second that I realized what I just said. I put my hands over my face, which still didn't shield my face from the piercing drops hitting my skin.

_It wasn't __we_ _anymore._

I never expected to feel like this. I finally got the courage to let out my blood-drenched anger towards...her. I should be feeling relieved. I should be having some form of mental adrenaline rush after bringing someone down to silence.

Shouldn't I?

I sighed in self-disappointment. She... I didn't even have the emotional control to think of her name. Her face was still tattooed onto my brain. Her glowing, mocha skin tone. Her chocolate brown eye, lying in perfect symmetry with her hazel, golden-flecked one. Her full, dark pink lips shaped in an angry, yet stunningly gorgeous pout...

I tried to shake the mental picture out of my head, with no prevail.

"Forget about her." I told myself out loud. "She doesn't want you."

I suddenly got that feeling again. It was like getting a shot from my doctor, only the injection was going into my chest, and was 5 times hotter, more painful. Water was forming in my eyes, only it wasn't coming from the harsh, icy droplets hitting my face. I just couldn't take it anymore.

After that, I just ran. I honestly had no idea where I was going, but I didn't care. Every single tree trunk and branch looked exactly the same, but I didn't care. The misty haze in front of me was getting thicker, my sides were whining in a strained pain, and it just kept getting harder and harder to breathe.

But... I still didn't care.

Nothing seemed to stop me at this point, until I heard it. I heard the one thing that could either bring my heartbeat up to its highest point, or bring me down to my knees in submission.

Nevaeh Puckett's airy laugh, going straight through my ears like the sweetest tune that Beethoven couldn't even compose.

As soon as it caught me off guard, my legs stiffened in their present position. I tried desperately to stop, but I had no grip on the muddy ground whatsoever. I found myself sliding forward, the velocity only stopping when I hit, chest and forehead-first, into a tree.

My lungs were blocked, and I fell backwards onto the ground, with a bone-shattering thud. A huge pressure on my chest was refusing to let me get up. I was forced to gaze up into the dark sky, as the falling rain slowly filled up my mouth and nose, into my lungs.

_So you really _can_ drown from straight rain._

Slowly but surely, my chest began to numb out the previous pain. My eyelids became heavier and heavier. As scared as I've been about dying, experiencing it was really not that big of a deal. If anything, it was somewhat soothing, easier than what these last few months have been.

I didn't know how long I was laying there, but after a while, I guess my unconscious mind began to take over, as I began to hear a distant voice surrounding me.

_"Justin...Justin..."_

It was too soft to distinguish, too far in distance. It kept saying my name in a strange tone. It was as if the person was frantic, and yelling.

"_Justin!"_

Angels shouldn't sound anxious. I wasn't dead, but pretty damn close to it. It was only a few seconds before I blacked out finally, when I realized what the voice was.

"Oh, my God!"

Well, if it wasn't my little angel from Hell...

* * *

I came to at the feeling of hands pushing frantically on my solar plexus.

I didn't feel any rain on my body anymore, just my soaking wet clothes sticking to my skin. Beneath me wasn't drenched grass, but a hard, concrete-like surface. I didn't seem to have died, but I felt heavy, unconscious. It wasn't until I felt soft, trembling, open lips on mine, and had hot, frantic breaths blowing into my throat, before my muscles became animated again.

The person's mouth let me loose, apparently noticing my movements. It took everything I had to open up my blurry vision and bring myself up in a cross-legged position. As my vision began to clarify, I noticed dark, solid surroundings, and realized I had miraculously gotten back into the cave. I looked around, finding a feminine, frightened face sitting next to me in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Nevaeh asked, letting out a disappointed sigh right after. "Th-...That was a stupid question, wasn't it?"

"Pretty much," I answered candidly, coming to realization that I was still pissed off at her. Then, I became curious. "How'd I get back here?"

Fear still not fading in her eyes, she stuttered out an answer. "Well... i-i-it started to rain harder, and...and you d-didn't show up after a while...so I wen-went out to get you, and...and I...and I saw you l-l...l-lying on the ground and..."

I realized that this whole time, her lip was trembling, and she was fidgeting with her fingers.

_She saved me?_

I looked at her in complete shock. "You saved me, didn't you? You...you dragged me out of the rain." I kept looking at her in shock. "You gave me mouth to mouth."

She began to look away, pulling black strands of hair off of her face, and I noticed how the whites of her eyes getting glassy.

"I... why would you do that?" I asked, hopelessly confused. "I thought I was just your Stray Dog. I...I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you," I barely heard her mumble, still looking away from me. Her shaking hands made wiping motions beneath her eyes, and her chin went up a few centimeters higher, as if she was trying to hold on to a few threads of dignity.

"Then...why-"

"I'm sorry!" she said quickly, her eyebrows scrunching together in anxiety. "Truly, sincerely sorry! For pushing you down the stairs, for... for yelling at you and c-calling you Stray Dog all the time, for..." she began to choke on air as the tears she was fighting back escaped down her cheeks. "I-I don't know why I treat you the way I do, I really don't. I never do anything like that to other people, I swear. It's just... whenever I'm with you... I don't know, something just happens to me, like...every single thing that has made me angry before just...

"I can't control it. I c-c-can't control anything when I'm around you. But it's not because of you, I promise! Everything just blows up and I turn into this psychotic bitch like my mom and..." She stopped her sentence, like she said something she wasn't supposed to. "Then, when I went looking f-f-for you, and you were on the ground, and... not moving...I'm just sorry. I'm really really sorry."

I probably should have been happy. She finally realized her mistakes. She was finally apologizing. But seeing her coming undone, her face red and buried in her hands, her whole suit of armor gone... I just really couldn't find anything to be happy about.

Without saying anything, I scooted closer to her, and brought her shaking body close to me. She let out gasps of air, seeming to be just shocked at my reaction as I was. Eventually, she accepted it, and allowed herself to cry into my already wet chest.

At that moment, I forgot about everything thing that I was mad about, the reason that I left after screaming at her. Seeing her broken like this, I couldn't help but think of one thing.

_Angels shouldn't cry._

After a while, I began to come to my senses. Something was telling me that I had to make sure this wasn't phony. That she wasn't just going to go back to the way we were. I needed to hold on to at least an ounce of anger for bit longer.

Eventually, after her sobs began to calm down, I pulled away from her, and got a hold of her shoulders, making her look into my eyes.

"I forgive you," I started. "But... it's going to take a lot more than 'I'm sorry' to make me pretend that none of this happened." She didn't protest, and I let go of her. "You owe me big time."

She looked at me quizzically, trying to anticipate what I was coming on about. "What exactly... do you want?"

I let out a breath of air, and slowly let out wet strands of hair, which her now curling up as they air-dried, out of her face, revealing her hazel-eye, which still had a prominent, purplish ring surrounding it.

"You can start on telling me how you got _that."_


End file.
